Can't Get You Out of My Head
by PailyMcvie
Summary: Paige is used to going it alone, but is fed up with her migraines and seeks help at the local hospital. She gets a little more than she bargained for when she comes face to face with Dr. Fields in the ER.
1. Chapter 1

Hi there. First off, for anybody reading Burnin' For You, I want to let you know not to worry that I've posted something new. I'm not abandoning that story, I just needed a break and to write something different. I still don't know what this will be if anything. But I hope you enjoy.

* * *

Day one had felt pretty much like any other headache. A dull throb at the back of her neck, a sensitivity in her ears, but nothing she thought a few aspirin and a nap couldn't fix. Day two brought on the nausea, the dizziness, a more intense pain stretching across her forehead and even deep behind her eyes. It had her wide awake when all she wanted to do was sleep it off, had her dreading even the simplest tasks. The idea of getting out of her bed, despite how sleepless she was there, was getting scarier by the second. By day three, she was convinced someone had jammed an ice pick into the side of her temple.

Paige wasn't one to complain or make a fuss over herself, especially when it came to doctors. She'd toughed out the worst of colds with just a few cough drops and bowls of her mother's chicken soup. She took good care of herself, exercised and never felt much need for a professional opinion regarding her health. That was before the migraines started.

She'd been at work when the first one hit, a single pang of pain that felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped down her back. It had her reeling for a moment, and then eventually it settled, farther toward the center of her head. She didn't think much of it at first, headaches weren't typical for her, but they weren't unusual, and she went about her day, assuming it would pass. By the end of her shift she was driving to the pharmacy in tears, seeking relief. That had been two years ago, and the migraines had only increased in frequency since.

This one, though, she had decided about four hours into day three, was the last straw, and had her finally give in and get herself to the emergency room. She needed relief, or at least answers.

"A doctor is gonna be with you real soon, hon," a nurse popped her head into the tiny room they had set Paige up in when she got there. Paige winced at the sound of the woman's voice, the sound of just a normal speaking volume piercing through her ears like someone had beaten a snare drum right next to her face, and gave a thumbs up from where she lay on the stiff hospital bed.

"Sorry, sweetie," the woman lowered her voice to a hushed whisper, "I'll put a note in your chart to keep the noise down and the lights low. We're a little behind today but Dr. Fields will be here in just a few. You hang tight,"

Paige nodded, and hoped it really would be only a few minutes until she was seen. She wasn't sure what they were going to do for a glorified headache, probably laugh her out of the building with a few Tylenol, but she had no desire to spend her entire day off waiting for a doctor to get freed up to see her. She just hoped she could get someone to understand that her pain was real, more real than anything she ever felt.

Sure enough, just a few minutes later Paige heard the door to her room click shut softly, and cracked an eyelid to glance at her intruder. There, in pale blue scrubs under a white coat, was her doctor. Or at least who she hoped was her doctor. The site of the woman in front of her, ravishingly beautiful, caused Paige to open both of her eyes fully, sending a shockwave of pain up her spine and into her head. She groaned, the sound causing the doctor to look up from her chart just in time to see Paige lay her head back down against the pillow and shut her eyes tightly again.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Fields," she spoke softly, and clicked a few buttons on the tablet in her hands, "you're experiencing some headache pain today?"

"More than a headache," Paige whispered through gritted teeth, "I feel like someone's sawing my head in half. And if I even move I feel like I'm gonna throw up,"

"Okay," she took a seat next to Paige's bed and set the tablet by her feet. She took a hold of both of Paige's hands in her own, "can you give my fingers a squeeze? As tight as you can,"

Paige squeezed, though admittedly not as hard as she could.

"Oh come on," she smiled softly, "I know you're in pain but don't take it easy on me. I can take it, come on, give me a real squeeze,"

Paige cracked one eye back open at this, daring to look at the doctor up close, before giving her fingers a respectable squeeze.

"Do you taunt all your patients?" she asked, "or just the ones who you think are too weak to fight back?"

"Just the cute ones," she joked, and picked her tablet back up, "how long has this headache been going on?"

"This one specifically, three days," she answered.

"This one, what do you mean by that? You get them a lot?"

"Pretty constantly for the last two years or so,"

"Two years?" she tapped away at her tablet, and looked back up at Paige, "have you seen your primary care physician about it?"

"Nope, you're my first stop," she shrugged, and immediately regretted it the motion sending stabbing pain through her neck and down her arms.

"Okay, okay…" Dr. Fields set down her tablet again, and took ahold of Paige's arms laying them to rest by her sides, "just lay still okay? I want to run a few tests, get a CT scan and an MRI. But I'll have a nurse come back in and start you on an IV and give you something for the pain in the meantime," she explained.

"An IV?" Paige asked, wincing as the doctor began gently palpating at her head, "like, fluids?"

"A lot of times dehydration can be a root cause of migraines like this," she said, "it's a pretty basic place to start, and if it helps we won't waste your time running so many tests,"

"Well I like the sound of that," Paige replied, and once again the doctor began tapping away at her tablet, "is that like an iPad? I can't decide if I feel like you're doing fancy doctor things, or checking your Instagram," she joked and the doctor cracked a smile.

"I do have almost 12 followers," she winked, "I'm ordering those scans and some pain meds. Are you allergic to anything?"

"Bananas," she told her seriously, and the doctor couldn't help but chuckle a bit.

"Well," she smiled without looking up from her screen, "luckily for you, about 0% of pain medications contain bananas or banana byproducts,"

"Ha ha," came Paige's reply, "are you even a real doctor? You look way too young. And too pretty,"

"I'm in my third year of residency, so yes, I am a real doctor," she grinned, "but thank you. I'm going to go talk to my friends in radiology and make sure they don't keep you waiting too long for that CT okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Thanks,"

"My pleasure. Get some rest, I'll be back soon,"

* * *

"Wait a minute, hang on, pump the brakes," Spencer said to her friend. They were in line for some lunch in the cafeteria, and Emily had decided to bring up her mysteriously sexy migraine patient in the ER, the girl she hadn't been able to stop thinking about since she started treating her three hours ago. She knew her lifelong friend and fellow doctor would have some thoughts on the situation, but she couldn't help but be amused by them.

Spencer had been her best friend since she could remember, by her side all through middle & high school and even college at Villanova. They had split apart during med school, Spencer choosing UCLA while Emily stayed in state and did her four years at Penn Med, but she was ultimately delighted when they both got accepted to the surgical residency program at Chestnuthill Hospital in Philadelphia.

"Why am I pumping the brakes?" Emily laughed, and she grabbed a tray for herself and handed one to her friend.

"You're telling me you, Emily Fields, have the hots for a patient?"

"Well, she's hot!" she chuckled with a shrug, "she's got something about her, I don't know,"

"Yeah she's got something about her alright. A medical condition that is your responsibility to treat for her. You can't just go around hitting on patients, holding them here longer than you need to,"

"Oh please," Emily rolled her eyes, and grabbed a bowl of jello, "I am treating her. The CT came back clean and we're waiting on the MRI machine to open up. I'm not holding her against her will. She's happily drugged up and free of pain for the moment, watching free hospital TV and eating Italian ice. I am doing everything I can as a doctor to treat her migraine. And the fact that I'm fantasizing about making out with her in a supply closet hurts no one. Besides...I think she likes me too,"

"Okay," Spencer sighed, "I'm gonna try one more time to be the voice of reason here, if only to be able to say I told you so if you get your ass sued or tossed from the program...she's your patient. You just met her. Just...be careful,"

"Spence, you worry way too much. Ooh, they have chicken salad wraps today,"

"Fine. So what's she like? What is it about her that got the picky Emily Fields so flustered so quickly?"

"I don't know, she's just...cute. She's funny and sarcastic, in a dark, closed book kind of way you know? It's hard to explain. But after two minutes with her I was more turned on than I have been in a very long time,"

"You did always have a thing for closed off bad girls," Spencer nodded, "try and keep it professional, at least while your name is still on her chart. You know the chief can smell shenanigans ten miles away,"

"Don't worry, I'm keeping it professional," Emily rolled her eyes, "but the second she walks out those doors all bets are off,"

* * *

"So basically, you're just gonna lay inside this big machine for about half an hour. And it's going to get a real clear picture of what's going on in your brain," Emily explained, helping Paige up onto the MRI machine, careful not to get her IV wire tangled in anything as she stepped up.

"Half an hour?" Paige gasped.

"Yeah, I'm sorry it's a slow process," Emily winced, "but I'm gonna be right over on the other side of the glass, and there's little microphones in there so feel free to chat away. I'll be able to hear you and talk back. You're not claustrophobic are you?"

"I don't think so," Paige replied, "though I've never been trapped in a giant camera while wearing a backless gown before, so I'm assuming it's not gonna be the most comfortable experience of my life,"

"Probably not. But I'll be here the whole time. Lay back," she instructed and Paige lay flat on the table, hoping the nerves on her face weren't too visible from above.

"What are you looking for with this test exactly?" she gulped, and Emily put a hand on her arm to sooth her.

"Any number of things," she spoke softly, "a tumor, a bleed, a clot. Anything that could explain the type of pain you've been having. Let's not worry until we have to though. The pain meds seemed to have helped, that's a good sign. One to ten, ten being the worst, how's your pain right now?"

"Uh...like a 4 or 5," Paige replied.

"And what was it when you came in?"

"49," she answered and Emily grinned sympathetically.

"Let's get started. Stay totally still okay? You can talk but other than that, don't move a muscle," she instructed. Paige nodded and blew out a shaky breath, and Emily pushed the button that triggered the table to move backward into the machine.

She made her way through the door behind the glass window and took a seat behind the computer screen, instantly turning on the microphone and addressing Paige.

"Paige, can you hear me? You okay in there?"

"Yeah, I'm alright," she replied softly, and Emily smiled, and hit a few buttons on the keyboard to begin the scan.

"So how about you tell me about yourself?" Emily asked, instantly greeted by a chuckle from Paige.

"Like what?"

"Like stuff I can't learn from reading your chart. Where are you from, what do you do? What kind of music do you like, when's your birthday, what's your favorite food?"

"Wow, that's a lot of questions," Paige replied, "and I'm pretty sure my birthday should be in my chart. But it's September 18th,"

"Mmm. Indeed that is on your chart, touche. Wait, that's in like three days," Emily deduced and Paige laughed.

"Very good, doctor,"

"So...any special birthday plans? Party with friends? Dinner with family?" she asked.

"Nope, not really," she replied, "I'll be working most of the day. Then I'll probably just pick up some takeout and head home for a movie on the couch,"

Emily frowned at this, but pressed on, deciding to hold off and not pounce at the first chance to ask the girl on a date.

"Where do you work?" she asked instead.

"I work for the Philadelphia Flyers and 76ers, actually,"

"The hockey and basketball teams?" Emily asked.

"Yes. I uh, work in their event staff at the stadium. Guest relations, if you want to get technical. Some days I work the ticket office. Other days I get to cater to the rich slobs in the luxury suites. But hey, I get paid to see tons of games so I guess it's not always bad,"

"Not at all, it actually sounds really cool," Emily smiled.

"It's alright. Oh, and uh...I'm from here in Philly originally, I like lots of music but specifically rock music, blue, and my favorite food...is spaghetti and meatballs," she rattled off, "how about you?"

"Hmm," Emily was smiling from ear to ear, "My birthday is May 14th, I'm 3 years into a 5 year surgical residency and once that's done I plan to shift my focus completely to specializing in cardio thoracics. I'm from New York if you want to be technical, I've lived most of my life here but my parents lived in New York for a short time when I was born and after. I'll listen to just about any music, but I do love my 90's pop and R&B forever and always. Oh and, purple...and...chocolate cake," she replied.

"Chocolate cake?" Paige barked a laugh.

"What's wrong with that?"

"Your favorite food in the entire world, is chocolate cake? Not pizza, or tacos, or shrimp scampi or lasagna. Chocolate freakin cake?" she teased.

"Have you ever had a magnificent piece of chocolate cake? The kind that melts in your mouth and tastes like angels made it?" she fired back.

"Can't say I have,"

Paige was grinning like a fool inside the MRI machine, torn between letting the giddiness of Emily's blatant flirtation get the best of her, and remembering to stay completely still and that they were still running a serious test to get a look at her brain. Still, flirting with her young, sexy doctor almost made her forget that she was in pain in the first place.

"Whatever, spaghetti and meatballs. Did you even listen to anything else I said?" Emily feigned offense.

"I did," Paige replied, "and if you tell me you're a New York Rangers fan I'm gonna have to ask for a new doctor,"

"Well lucky for you I didn't take a liking to them when I was an infant," Emily laughed, "I've lived in Philly since I was old enough to know better,"

"Fair enough," Paige smiled, "so do you get this invested in all your patients' personal lives, or?"

"Just the cute ones," Emily smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

Hi everyone. First of all I just want to say thank you for the support. As some of you know, I am someone who deals with a migraine condition, and this was just something I started writing as an outlet for myself. I was pleasantly surprised to see so much positive feedback, so thank you for that. I will do my best to continue with this story. Thanks again for reading, I appreciate the reviews very much :)

* * *

"Spence can you spitball some potential diagnosis for chronic migraines with me?" Emily whined, sliding into an empty chair next to her friend behind the nurses' station. Spencer was focused on her computer screen, busy researching something for a patient of her own, but Emily lay the MRI film atop her keyboard anyhow.

As fun as it had been flirting with Paige in the MRI room, Emily's mood had been dampened quickly by the test results. On one hand, she was relieved to see nothing life threatening on the films. On the other, she hated the idea of going to her patient empty handed. She had learned early on, with chronic pain patients, often no news was worse than bad news.

"No need," Spencer sighed, although she picked up the film and held it to the light to take a look, "I already know what the problem is,"

"Excuse me?"

"The problem is there's no problem, and you haven't gotten the guts to ask her out yet," Spencer deadpanned, "the MRI is clean,"

"This has nothing to do with that," Emily rolled her eyes, "she's had these migraines for two years. No tumors, no clots, no bleeds. What am I supposed to tell her? Drink more water, limit your stress and deal with it?"

"Where's your bedside manor, Dr. Fields?" Spencer teased, "and I'm talking about the hospital bed, not the one in your apartment for the record,"

"Spence," Emily groaned, and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, "this girl came to me for answers…"

"All patients come to us for answers, Em. And sometimes we give good news and sometimes we give the worst news they'll ever hear in their life. And sometimes we don't get anything on the first try. I know you like this girl but as far as her treatment plan...I'd have to say write her a script for Relpax, make damn sure she knows it's gonna get worse before it gets better, and once she's hydrated send her on her way. Recommend a good neurologist for her to follow up with, cause honestly, you're a surgical resident covering an ER rotation and there's literally nothing else for you to do. Then as soon as she signs her discharge form, ask her out to dinner or something,"

"Relpax is a little harsh," Emily winced.

"All acute migraine medications are harsh. That's why I said to advise her on what it's gonna feel like. Make sure she knows not to drive a car or make any life affirming decisions while she's on the stuff. Offer her a support system in the form of hooking up with a hot doctor. But as far as your job, you've already done all you can do for her,"

"Why are you so convinced I'm gonna hook up with this girl?" Emily groaned, though the idea brought a grin to her face and a blush to her cheeks.

"Because you've been grinning like a fool since you met her," Spencer pointed out, "and speaking as your best friend of close to twenty years, and a professional physician, you need to get laid,"

"Excuse me?" Emily scoffed, "and just how is that your professional opinion?"

"You're tense. You're cranky, moody and...how do I say...stagnant," Spencer pointed out, "all side effects of a person in desperate need of some intimate human contact,"

"Stagnant? How am I stagnant?" she argued.

"You work, you sleep, you eat, you repeat. When's the last time you did anything fun? Went out for a drink or saw a play or took a walk and had yourself a thought that wasn't about medicine?" Spencer replied, tapping away at her keyboard once more.

"Oh like you're out there, tearing it up on your nights off? You're in this hospital just as much as I am,"

"Yeah but the difference between you and I is…" she looked up with a teasing grin, "I still manage to get laid,"

"Whatever, okay? It can't be that good if you're worried about my love life instead of your own," Emily quipped, "you're not the love guru of the hospital just because you hooked up with Evan in radiology the other night,"

"What do you want from me?" Spencer laughed, "you argue with me when I tell you to tread lightly and not try to date your patients, you argue with me when I tell you to ask her out. Why don't you save some of your energy and figure out what you're gonna say to her?"

Emily sighed, and began tucking the MRI film back into the folder she pulled it from, staring at the information scribbled on the outside. _Patient: McCullers, P. DOB 9/18/1988. Female._

"When did I become this girl?" Emily sighed.

"When you got your heartbroken," Spencer shrugged and Emily rolled her eyes. She knew Spencer was right, but it was a topic she had been actively avoiding since she could remember.

"Danielle was a long time ago," she sighed, "and has nothing to do with this,"

"Hmm, my initial diagnosis is that that's bullshit," Spencer snarked, "and intern year wasn't all that long ago. She destroyed you. She bailed on you when you needed her most and you haven't been the same since,"

"She couldn't handle the hours. She saw what me being a doctor was going to do to me, to us, light years before I ever did. It's not her fault she wanted a normal life. Someone to come home and have dinner with at the end of a long day. Someone who would actually be around to enjoy a family and a home with,"

"Maybe not. But it's damn sure her fault that she cheated on you smack dab in the middle cramming for your intern exam. It's her fault that she chose to end a four year relationship with lies and deceit and adultery," she pointed out and Emily sighed.

"She's happy now. She's engaged to an investment banker from Baltimore. They have a terrace. They're getting married in Cabo San Lucas. I'm buried in school debt with a borderline caffeine addiction and sleep on a futon in a sublet above a Chinese restaurant. I think she made the right call," Emily replied with a chuckle.

"That's bull and you know it," Spencer rolled her eyes, "and everything about that relationship is the preppiest, most annoying crap I've ever heard in my life. A terrace? Seriously? Who needs a terrace at 25? What's she gonna do, sit on her terrace and Pinterest while her wife rolls in the big bucks? Boring. You're gonna save lives, Em. You're gonna reach into chests and fix human hearts and make them beat again. And then she's gonna know she made the wrong call,"

"You never liked her anyhow," Emily shrugged.

"You're right, I didn't," Spencer agreed, "because I could tell day one that she wasn't good enough for you. But I'm not like you Em. I hold everyone to this ridiculously high standard in all aspects of life. Especially the women you date. They have to be damn near next to perfect for me to think they deserve you. But you? You have this amazing ability to see the good in someone, right away. And after all you've been through, after how long you've been sitting on the sidelines, if something about this girl had your heart racing the first time you saw her, then I think it's something you should give yourself a chance to pursue," she explained. Emily leaned back in her chair and swiveled it into Spencer's direction, pinning her with a look.

"You think so?"

"I do," Spencer nodded, "maybe it'll just be a one night stand. Maybe you'll go on a few dates and you'll learn you can't stand her. But I know it's been a long time since I've seen you this worked up over a girl. So I know that if you don't try, you're gonna kick yourself for it later,"

"Anything else?" Emily asked with a chuckle, watching as Spencer once again got back to her work.

"Yes," she mumbled without looking up, "if you take her to Enrico's for dinner, and there isn't a container of tiramisu in the breakroom fridge with my name on it afterwards, I'll mention to Dr. Pence just how much you enjoy moonlighting in the free clinic during STD screen awareness week,"

"Goodbye, Spencer," she rolled her eyes, and was off to see her patient.

* * *

"Texting is a good sign," Emily grinned as she walked into Paige's room, glad to see her propped up in bed and on her phone, seemingly a little less weighed down by her pain than she was the last time she had seen her, "I take it those pain meds have helped?"

"A lot, actually," Paige grinned, "I was just switching shifts with a co-worker. Big game tonight, I was supposed to be working but I don't see that happening,"

"Probably not a bad idea. Give yourself a day off or two to recover. And find yourself a ride home. I can't let you drive with the morphine in your system," Emily ordered, and took a seat next to the bed.

"Does that mean you're discharging me?"

"Yes, but I don't want you to worry…" she began, but Paige was quick to cut her off.

"Worry? Why would I worry? I started daydreaming about my couch and a pizza about three hours ago. Please, get me out of here," she laughed.

"Well, I...the reason I'm discharging you is because I can't find anything on your scans...no definitive reason to keep you here," she explained.

"Okay...so isn't that good? You were looking for tumors and brain bleeds. Isn't it good I don't have any of that stuff?" she shrugged.

"Yes," Emily nodded, "it's great. But it means I don't have any answers for you. It means the last two years of migraines is still a mystery to me. It means all I can really do is write you a prescription, tell you to try and keep track of your triggers and if it keeps happening we can go from there. Oh, and there's a note in your chart here from the nurse that says she had a hard time getting an IV in because you were pretty dehydrated. So drink more water. Doctor's orders," she winked.

"Will do," Paige chuckled, "look I don't know if you feel like you had to come up with some big fancy answer for me, but trust me, I'm thrilled. I'm out of pain for the first time in four days. I may change my mind the next time this happens, but for now...all I can be is grateful. When you spend four days in so much pain you can hardly breathe...it's hard to feel anything but grateful when it's over,"

"Fair enough," Emily smiled, "I'm writing you a prescription for Relpax. Please, please make sure you are at home and able to rest when you take them. It's not something you can take and then drive, or work. It works by narrowing the blood vessels in your brain, which eventually will make you feel a lot better. But the first hour or so, unfortunately it will make your pain worse and you'll be very groggy. So I mean it. When you take a pill, go to bed, and expect to be there for a while," she explained.

"Yikes," Paige winced as Emily finished signing the paper, ripping it from her tablet and handing it to her, "you have anything that won't make me wanna die?"

"Unfortunately it's the way migraine medications work. The morphine I gave you is a superficial pain medication, but this is specifically designed to treat the type of headaches you've been having. And like I said, after the first hour or so, you'll feel tremendous relief. But while it settles in and starts to work, it sucks. I know it's scary. But for now, I think this is the best first step. You can keep in touch with me if you like, and if you have any problems with the medication we can try to figure something else out," she offered, and placed a soothing hand on Paige's arm as she absorbed the information.

"Yeah...yeah, okay. What do I do if I'm at work and I get one though? Since I can't take this medication at work?"

"Try the over the counter stuff. Excedrin, and if that doesn't work…."

"It doesn't," Paige chuckled, "I've been popping those things like candies for two years. Some days they take the edge off. Other days I may as well just literally be popping candies,"

"Well in that case if you get one at work that you can't shake off, come see me. And if your boss has a problem with that, tell him to come see me," Emily replied.

"Alright then," Paige grinned, "thanks for everything, Dr. Fields,"

"You're welcome," Emily murmured back. It was taking every ounce of self restraint she had not to lean forward. She wanted nothing more than to kiss the grin off Paige's face, to tie her fingers in her hair and suck her bottom lip between her teeth, to feel Paige's hands work their way up underneath her labcoat, to feel her fingers trailing up and down her spine before fumbling to pop open the clasp of her bra. She longed to make Paige see stars that had nothing to do with the ones she had been seeing when she showed up in the hospital that day, and everything to do with her sensitive, tantalizing flesh underneath Emily's tongue.

"..and then I can just get an Uber or something," she heard, snapping her out of her trance as she saw Paige sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

"I...I'm sorry?" she stuttered, trying to catch up to what Paige had said during her daydream. Paige caught on to the blush in her cheeks, the flustered look behind her eyes and couldn't help but chuckle. She knew exactly what the doctor was thinking, but she wasn't going to give in that easy. Not when the woman in front of her was making such a cute show of herself.

"I said can you take out my IV so I can get out of this gown? And then I can just get an Uber or something?" she repeated with a laugh, holding the afflicted arm closer to Emily.

"Oh," Emily's eyes widened in understanding, and stood from the chair to step over to the supply cabinet. She loaded a few squirts of hand sanitizer onto her skin, rubbing it in before pulling on a pair of blue rubber gloves. She grabbed a cotton ball and a bandage and stepped back over to Paige, who still had a grin plastered on her face.

"What?" Emily smiled back bashfully, and set to work gently pulling the tape away from the needle in Paige's arm.

"Nothing," Paige shrugged, "just trying to figure out what toppings to get on my pizza when I get out of here,"

"Oh yeah?" Emily barked a laugh, "let me know how that works out for you,"

"What do you recommend?" Paige teased.

"What, have you never had pizza before?" Emily rolled her eyes with a chuckle.

"I'm simply asking your opinion, doctor,"

"Well, I wouldn't say I'm an expert," Emily played along, "but the chicken parmesan pizza from Sorentino's is the pizza of the God's,"

"That sure sounds like something an expert would say. And how do you step foot in Sorentino's without getting the sausage and pepper pizza?"

"Who says I haven't had that too?" Emily argued, and in a swift move pulled the needle out of Paige's arm and covered the wound with the cotton ball, holding pressure for a moment.

"And people say Philadelphians live on cheesesteaks," Paige grinned, "I'm impressed. Is everything alright down there?" she asked looking down where Emily was pressing the cotton to her arm.

"Yup. You're just bleeding a little tiny bit. It's what happens when you're properly hydrated," she winked, "totally normal. It'll stop in a second and I'll slap a bandaid on it,"

"Slap a bandaid, huh?" Paige laughed, "there's that fancy medical education slipping out again,"

"Take it easy on me, would you? Ordinarily I am a completely professional force to be reckoned with. I was second in my class in college, second in med school, and I'm a front runner for chief resident next year. Plus my patient outcomes are off the charts," Emily explained.

"Hmm. So what are you saying exactly?" Paige asked, "that this is out of the ordinary?"

"I'm...I'm saying, in a rambly and hopefully not very braggy way, that...I would very much like to take you to dinner sometime," she choked out, "if you're interested,"

"Dinner," Paige nodded, "like a date,"

"Yes, like a date," she blew out a shaky breath.

"Alright," Paige agreed with a simple shrug of her shoulders, fighting a satisfied grin she hoped Emily couldn't see.

"Alright?" Emily repeated, and placed the bandage over Paige's arm, Paige flexing the muscle a few times to ensure it was on comfortably.

"Yeah," Paige replied, this time tilting her head up so Emily could see her smile, "we can go on a date," she stood from the bed and handed Emily her cell phone, grabbing the clothes she had arrived in from the bedside table,where a nurse had placed them in a plastic bag.

"Put your number in there while I go get changed?"

"Yeah," Emily smiled, "I'll call you a taxi too and be back with your discharge forms. Text me later?"

"Well how else am I gonna find out where you're taking me for dinner?" Paige winked, and Emily couldn't help but roll her eyes. Paige held up her hands, still chuckling.

"I'll let you know as soon as I'm home, doc," she promised, and clicked the bathroom door closed to get changed.

"Could this girl be any cuter?" Emily sighed under her breath, and set to work adding her number to Paige's phone.


End file.
